


Battleaxe

by dracoqueen22



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: BDSM series, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub overtones, Grimlock's Speech patterns are tricky, M/M, Rough Sex, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Valentines Day Ficlets, pinning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-24
Updated: 2015-03-24
Packaged: 2018-03-19 11:50:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3609075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracoqueen22/pseuds/dracoqueen22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The hardest part was admitting what he wanted and asking for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Battleaxe

**Author's Note:**

> Another entry for the Valentines BDSM challenge on tumblr. This one is most definitely NSFW and it's been expanded from the original version. Please excuse my amateur attempts at writing Grimlock's distinctive speech patterns. I tried, precious, I tried. Special thanks to the Anon user who initially gave me the prompt.

It started, as it always did, with a fight.   
  
Optimus threw the first punch. If he was going to be pinned down and fragged within an inch of his life, he was going to get his licks in. And when it came to Grimlock, Optimus had to take every advantage given to him.   
  
“You Prime fight dirty,” Grimlock growled.   
  
Optimus hastily dodged a swipe from the Dinobot's massive hand, considering it akin to fighting Megatron. “I'm not the one who breathes fire.”   
  
Grimlock laughed at him, that dark and deep laugh that always vibrated straight through to Optimus' spark. “You Prime jealous?” His hand shot out, grabbing Optimus' arm before he could avoid it, and using his momentum against him.   
  
Optimus slammed face-first into the side of the cavern. He grunted as bits and pieces of rock rained down on them, pinging over their armor. Grimlock twisted his arm, putting pressure on his shoulder, pinning him in place.   
  
He had to have learned that from Sunstreaker. He knew allowing the twins to spend more time around the Dinobots was a bad idea.   
  
Grimlock pressed harder against him as Optimus' free hand slammed against the wall, trying to push back. The Dinobot outweighed him by several tons, however, and all it did was cause pain to radiate through his shoulder.   
  
Frag it. Every slagging time.   
  
“Me Grimlock ask, you Prime jealous?”   
  
Optimus' ex-vents sent a puff of rock dust into the murky air. “Of course I'm not,” he said, turning his helm, his battlemask scraping against the rock and causing sparks.   
  
Grimlock laughed at him. “You Prime lie.”   
  
Optimus bucked his frame, but it proved pointless. He couldn't move Grimlock so much as an inch. He was pinned. Trapped. Completely at Grimlock's mercy.   
  
His panel snapped open without thought, giving free rein to the lubricant that gathered in his valve. It trickled down his thighs in a messy streak. His nodes pulsed for attention.   
  
“You Prime even lie to yourself,” Grimlock added and he snaked a hand between Optimus and the wall, palming the panel concealing Optimus' spike. “You open.”   
  
Optimus scraped his fingers down the wall. “No.”   
  
“You Prime not want this?” Grimlock's fingers paused and the pleasure ebbed.   
  
His engine raced, vibrating them both. As much as Optimus wanted to deny it, he could not. His panel snicked aside, spike sliding into Grimlock's hold.   
  
“Thought so.” Grimlock sounded oh-so-smug, his ventilations panting hot and wet against the back of Optimus' neck. “Give word.”   
  
Optimus cycled his optics and stared at the blue glow of them reflected on the cavern wall. “What?”   
  
Grimlock dragged his hand down Optimus' spike, pinching the sensor-laden tip. “You Prime give word or me Grimlock stop right now.”   
  
This was the hard part, where Optimus had to admit what he wanted and ask for it. And he hesitated because it wasn't easy.   
  
Until Grimlock started to pull back and the prospect of losing the option entirely was worse than making the choice.   
  
“Battleaxe!” Optimus ground from behind the safety of his battlemask.   
  
Grimlock's retreat halted. He pressed against Optimus' back, putting further strain on his shoulder and Ratchet was going to be furious but it couldn't be helped.   
  
“Good Prime,” Grimlock growled, and rolled his hips against Optimus' aft. “You done, you say word. Me Grimlock stop. Understand?”   
  
The rules never changed. That made it easier somehow.   
  
Optimus cycled a ventilation through the heat swamping his frame. “Yes,” he gasped out, the lubricant tickling as it dripped down his thighs. “I understand.”   
  
“Repeat word,” Grimlock demanded and the snickt of a spike emerging made Optimus' valve clench hungrily.   
  
“Battleaxe,” he groaned.   
  
Grimlock's own mask scraped against Optimus' audial with a burr of pleasure that bordered on pain. “Maybe you Prime not so stupid after all,” he said as Optimus shivered. The head of his spike nudged the rim of Optimus' valve. “Me Grimlack make you Prime scream.”   
  
“Don't make promises you can't keep,” Optimus provoked, glaring over his shoulder.   
  
Grimlock squeezed his spike, making Optimus thrash, his hips uncertain whether pushing forward or backward was the better course. “Me Grimlock always keeps promises.”   
  
The spike that plunged into Optimus' valve was all the retort Grimlock needed. Optimus threw his helm back, clawed the wall, and drowned in the pleasure. Grimlock sank into him, deeper and deeper with each thrust. His grip on Optimus' wrist tightened, stressing the delicate metal.   
  
“You Prime like me Grimlock's spike?” the Dinobot asked, his voice a purr directly against Optimus' audial, resonating straight through to his spark.   
  
Optimus gritted his denta and refused to answer. Bad enough that he actually did enjoy it. He wasn't going to admit it. Grimlock's arrogance didn't need the boost.   
  
Grimlock squeezed his spike, his thumb teasing the sensitive head. His thrusts pushed Optimus harder against the wall, his chestplate leaving a red streak against the rock.   
  
“You Prime answer or me Grimlock stop,” the Dinobot rumbled and his thrusts slowed, his grip on Optimus' spike easing.   
  
Frustration revved Optimus' engine. His free hand curled into a fist, pressing hard against the wall. Try as he might, he couldn't get the leverage to push back against Grimlock. The Dinobot leader was both taller and heavier than him. His valve could only flutter around the massive spike, trying to urge it into motion.   
  
“You Prime stubborn,” Grimlock growled, shoving into Optimus to the hilt and then holding still, pinning Optimus in place. “But me Grimlock stronger.”   
  
Optimus groaned, pressing his forehelm against the rock. His vents blasted heat back at Grimlock, but it didn't sway the Dinobot at all.   
  
“Say it,” Grimlock said, looming over Optimus, his chest pressed to Optimus' back, until he couldn't feel anything but the warmth of Grimlock's plating, the strength of his grip and the scent of fire that always clung to the Dinobot.   
  
Still Optimus pressed his lipplating together.   
  
Grimlock rumbled, perhaps a laugh, and he released Optimus' spike, much to the Prime's dismay. His hand dragged up Optimus' torso, his chestplate, only to grip his chin, tilt his helm backward. Grimlock's index finger scraped down the center of Optimus' battle mask, the skreel of metal on metal echoing in the cavern. There was demand in the gesture.   
  
Optimus narrowed his optics. He ignored the whirr of his vents, the rippling of his valve, the lubricant trickling down his thighs and the bob of his spike.   
  
Grimlock's smallest finger brushed Optimus' intake. It was challenge or warning. Either made Optimus shudder, made his system flush with heat, so much heat. His vents could do little to combat it, not with the rock in front of him and Grimlock behind him and nowhere to go. Nowhere to escape.   
  
A moan escaped Optimus before he could think to conceal it.   
  
And Grimlock laughed, a dry chuckle that vibrated against Optimus' audial.   
  
“You Prime a liar,” he said and he circled his hips, spike raking against the sensors within Optimus' valve. “Scared, too.”   
  
“I am not!” Optimus argued, and he ex-vented harshly as Grimlock pulled his helm back a little further and Optimus arched to ease the pressure on his neck.   
  
Trapped. He was effectively trapped and there was nothing he could do, no way to escape, couldn't do anything but let Grimlock manhandle him. Let Grimlock take his pleasure and maybe offer it in return.   
  
Grimlock chuckled. “Say it,” he repeated. “You Prime like me Grimlock's spike?”  
  
Optimus' engine whined. His denta gritted together, grinding. His valve throbbed, sending desperate pings.   
  
“ _Say it._ ”   
  
“Yes!” Optimus growled, his hips jerking back toward Grimlock's, his frame pleading where his processor had resisted. “I want it, frag you, I want it.”   
  
“That's all me Grimlock want to hear.” Grimlock's field crashed over Optimus', blinding in its intensity and he ceased his torturous pace.   
  
He withdrew from Optimus' valve until only the rounded head of his spike remained. His fingers flexed around Optimus' wrist. And then he plunged back into Optimus with a hard thrust, setting up a brutal pace that forced embarrassing cries from Optimus' vocalizer.   
  
His helm would have tipped forward were it not for Grimlock's grim on his jaw. As it were, Optimus sagged, his frame helpless to the onslaught of pleasure. Every thrust forward rubbed the head of his spike against the cavern wall, a light scrape that stung as much as it stimulated and he left smears of pre-fluid behind.   
  
“This where you Prime belong,” Grimlock grunted, his ventilations as harsh as Optimus' own, loud blasts of air as audible as the smacking of their frames together. “This what you Prime best at.”   
  
Optimus made a strangled sound that in another universe, might have been a denial. His fist pounded at the wall, heat coiling inside of him like a cannon cycled into battle-ready mode, powering up for the first blast.   
  
Grimlock's finger stroked his intake again, a subtle if not pointed gesture of ownership. His helm pressed against Optimus', right over his audial and all he could hear was Grimlock. All he could feel was Grimlock. His valve clamped down tight, milking the spike for all it was worth.   
  
“You Prime overload when me Grimlock say,” Grimlock growled, and his battlemask scraped against Optimus' audial. “And me Grimlock say now.”   
  
It was as if the order punctured straight through to his spark. Obedience was encoded into him.   
  
Optimus' engine redlined and he growled as his overload overtook him, his entire frame going tense. He scraped a furrow in the rock, his spike pulsing spurt after spurt of transfluid against the wall.   
  
Grimlock rumbled his approval and released his grip on both Optimus' wrist and jaw, if only to take hold of Optimus' hip. He was not gentle as he pulled Optimus' aft back toward him and pounded into the shivering Prime, seeking his own overload with mindless determination.   
  
Optimus' shoulder screamed obscenities at him as he braced both arms against the wall, weak-kneed in the face of his overload and his frame subject to Grimlock's control. It took only a handful of deep thrusts before Grimlock overloaded as well, his transfluid searing the inside of Optimus' still twitching valve.   
  
Optimus sagged against the wall, his vents working in overdrive to cool his overheated frame. But the air around them was scorched with heat and thick with the scent of charged ions and ozone.   
  
Grimlock purred and loosened his grip on Optimus' hips, which allowed him to finally plant both pedes firmly on the ground. One hand stroked down Optimus' back as though in appreciation.   
  
“Good job,” Grimlock said, as smug as a Dinobot could possibly sound.   
  
Optimus was far too sated to work up any indignant retort. He rolled his helm, easing the kinks in his neck cables.   
  
Grimlock's spike retracted, removing itself from Optimus' valve, and he felt the trickle of their mingled fluids join the mess already between his thighs. He would need a trip through the washracks and – he grimaced as he straightened – perhaps one to the medbay as well. His shoulder ached and he thought it might have slipped out of socket.   
  
“You broke me,” Optimus said.   
  
Grimlock's hand rested on his shoulder with more gentleness than anyone could have believed of the Dinobot leader. One finger slipped beneath a seam, stroking the aching joint. “Not broken. Sore.”   
  
“Ha. Ratchet might think otherwise.”  
  
“But him Ratchet not yell at me Grimlock,” the Dinobot replied, his tone absolutely self-satisfied.   
  
Optimus rolled his optics but had to concede Grimlock's point. If Optimus was damaged, it was his own fault, to Ratchet. He should have known better than to play around with a mech twice as strong as he.   
  
“Then I'll hide behind you,” Optimus declared. He turned to face Grimlock, looking up at his casual lover. One of very, very few he would allow to see this side of him.   
  
Grimlock's optics lit with humor. “That the first smart thing you Prime say today.” His hand cupped Optimus' face, thumb sweeping over his mask. “You Prime getting better.”   
  
“So are you.”   
  
Grimlock laughed.   
  
It ended, as it always did, with respect.   
  


****


End file.
